


sink my teeth in the sheets and taste the emptiness

by ssilverarrowss



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Breakup, Ficlet, Infidelity, Light Angst, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 20:32:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6674521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssilverarrowss/pseuds/ssilverarrowss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin almost expects a ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ because Jenson’s a cliché, but it doesn’t come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sink my teeth in the sheets and taste the emptiness

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the prompt 'things you said after it was over.' Title from 'Pirouette' by Made In Heights.

Jenson is  _magnetic_ _._ Charismatic. 

The way his lips curve into a smile, the way he winks and the sound he makes as he laughs and he’s so  _charming._  It’s impossible to not be attracted to him, the way he licks his lips, mouth just begging to be kissed with tongue and teeth, and  _fuck._

He is craved, he is  _wanted,_  lustfully and passionately and without reservations. To possess him is to love him. 

He makes Kevin feel wanted, too, cherished in a way he’s never been before and it’s shamelessly the best sex he’s ever had. 

It’s the sting of bitten lips and the pull of rough hands tangled in hair. The pressure of fingertips leaving marks against milky collarbones, blooming like fuchsia. 

Other times, it’s the shape of his mouth, leaving trails of warmth in the dip of Kevin’s shoulders. The burn of his stubble against the hollow of Kevin’s throat as he dips his head to press a kiss into his skin, aching and tender. 

It makes Kevin feel complete, feel  _loved._  

It’s a funny thing, though, because this is Jenson, and Jenson is like this with everyone, offering that delicious flirtatious smirk and the vague promise of a good time.

And sometimes, Jenson isn’t there, but he usually is, and that’s good enough for Kevin.

It is until it’s not, and the insecurity starts eating away at him, piece by piece. Small and uncertain, he starts looking for assurance. He longs for a sense of security, whispering  _do you love me’s_ _?_ into the crook of Jenson’s elbow. 

And he’s not paranoid, it’s not that, it’s—the fear of loss, really. It’s a question of  _trust._

Still, though, Kevin takes what Jenson gives him. They still sleep with each other, but it’s different now, more sporadic. And it’s turned into a routine, of sorts—Jenson leaves with the sunrise, and Kevin ends up grasping cold sheets. 

Up near his neck, just at the juncture of his shoulders, there’s a mark neatly pressed into Jenson’s skin, something like a mouth and a set of teeth. 

Kevin swallows around the lump in his throat as the panic begins to rise because he knows with a crushing certainty that  _my mouth didn’t do this._

But Jenson just smiles, in that sweet innocent way, running a comforting hand through Kevin’s hair, and it feels a lot like  _don’t be ridiculous._

“I don’t lie, Kev.” He says, and it sounds patronising. And Kevin knows how this goes, something like:  _there’s only you._ He nods, chews on the inside of his cheek. 

The end comes sooner than expected, and Kevin loses a team  _and_ a teammate and it’s like this: a nervous wringing of hands and bitten lips and big sad eyes and feigned anguish because “We’re not right, Kevin.” 

Kevin almost expects a  _it’s not you, it’s me_ because Jenson’s a cliché, but it doesn’t come. And anyway. Jenson  _doesn’t lie._

He wonders what it’s like, to hold a heart in your hands and toy with it. Jenson does heartbreak  _in style._

Kevin doesn’t miss him, most nights, but he can still feel him, a press on his ribs. And maybe it’s only fair, because Jenson never asked him to love him, never wanted him except in his quiet, most selfish moments. 

The thing about Jenson, though, is that his affection—his love is precious but it’s  _fleeting._  


End file.
